EMP Catastrophe , Hamilton, Grace [crime books to read txt] 📗

explained, sticking his thumb in the direction Bill went. “Offered for me to go with him, but I said no.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” David said, the guilty appearance of earlier smoothing away to a calm sort of acceptance. “That’s probably the best idea, actually. You’re fit and somewhat young—”

“Wow, thanks.”

“—you should take him up on his offer. Better yet, you should let me babysit the truck while you look for help. Start walking to Galena. Get that bike you were talking about.”

“Pogo stick still seems like my best option,” Matthew responded, even as a new kind of uneasiness washed over him. “You want me to leave you here?”

David shrugged. “Someone will come back for me. Plus, can’t leave the truck out here all by herself.”

“Oh, please.” Matthew frowned. “What if I can’t get back to you by the evening?”

Again, that shrug. “I'll sleep in the car.”

“People don’t even let their dogs sleep in their cars, nowadays.”

David rolled his eyes. “I’ll find a place to stay.”

“Where?” Matthew held his hand out wide. “There’s nothing out here but stores.”

“A twenty-four-hour gas station, then. Casino.”

“Once a casino figures out their machines aren’t coming back up, they’ll shut down just like Bill shut his store down.”

“I’ll figure it out.”

Matthew stared at his father in disbelief. Again, the veteran who always had a plan was the one who was telling his son to abandon him, to let him fend for himself. The man who’d planned their day in Madison down to the hour, researching a timetable, ensuring they were near food stations in case they got hungry. This was the guy who would figure it out.

“Absolutely not.” Matthew put his hands on his hips.

“Matt, you know you’ll be faster without me holding you up.”

Matthew rubbed his forehead in frustration. His father wasn’t wrong, but Matthew didn’t want to say it out loud. Sure, he could walk and bike faster—he’d probably be able to flag down a ride while hitchhiking since he was only one man—but everything about this whole situation made him feel alarmed. It wasn’t just the power outage and the truck not working. It was David acting lackadaisical about his own health. David, who suddenly seemed to stop caring about their well-being as a whole and only concerned himself with Matthew’s. Matthew never knew his father to be fatalistic, but this was starting to edge near a thought Matthew didn’t want to touch with a ten-foot pole.

“Well yeah, obviously,” Matthew said, fear clogging his throat, but he couldn’t outright speak the feelings rolling inside him. He couldn’t tell his father he cared for him so blatantly. That wasn’t how they did things. “But then, Dad, who’d stop me from helping every person I came across, huh? I’d barely get out of the parking lot without you. Be logical, at least.”

David snorted in a strange mixture of affection and agreement. The fear inside Matthew eased a touch. His joke had worked. Still, he heard Kathleen in the back of his mind, could picture her rolling her eyes: tell him what you really mean, Matt.

Matthew took in a deep breath and tried to take Kathleen’s advice. “I don’t think it's safe to separate right now. That happens in horror films and never seems to work.”

“I don’t watch those kinds of movies, you know that.” David sniffed.

I don’t want to take any chances, Matthew thought, but he couldn’t say that. He couldn’t say, I’m worried about you right now. He settled for saying, “And you expect me to leave you when you don’t know the first thing about Sasquatch? What did I say, Dad? Be logical.”

7

The growling coming from Matthew’s stomach caused David to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “That sounds like Sasquatch,” he said.

Sheepish, Matthew ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair and tried not to look embarrassed. “Can’t help it that Kathleen keeps me on a regular schedule.”

David let out a long-suffering sigh and looked to the sky as if searching for help. “I suppose if you’re convinced of this sticking-together plan, we should start walking and find you food.”

“Hanger is a real thing,” Matthew said with a grin and clapped his father on the back. “C’mon, old man. There was that sporting goods store not too far from here and we can get some supplies. I’m going to need new shoes if we’re walking back to Galena.” He picked his foot up and showed David his old tennis shoes, the leather scuffed and worn, the soles worn nearly smooth.

David looked over his shoulder back at the silver truck. Matthew followed his gaze, a wistfulness filling him. “She’ll be okay,” he said to David, convincing himself of it as well. “Everyone else left their vehicles here. It’s a safe area, from what I can tell. We’ll come back for her.”

David nodded and stuck his hands in his jeans pockets, turning so they walked side-by-side to the sporting goods store a couple of block department stores down. The green camo logo loomed above the painted white bricks. Matthew pushed the door open. The store smelled slightly stale and warm. Inside, customers milled around the shelves of warm sleeping bags, yoga mats, and overpriced coats with double insulation in a state of either panic or zen-calm. The lights above were out. Beside him, David seemed to relax now that they were out of the sun, and Matthew kept a weather eye on his father’s actions—looking for another hand to reach for his chest, a hitched breath of distress, anything that might indicate something was wrong.

They passed the register and a younger man in a green vest approached them with a welcoming smile pasted to his face. He had short cropped brown hair and the fitness of a runner. “Hi there. How can I help you gentlemen today?”

David gave him the courtesy of a smile. “We’re in a bit of a situation. Our car won’t start, and we need to head back home to Galena. We’re looking for any kind of transportation,